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Updated: May 25, 2025
Radcombe is there and will, I am sure, be delighted to give you any assistance in his power!" Desmond hesitated. "Really," he said, "it seems rather unconventional. Perhaps the doctor would object..." "Object" said the heavily-fowled man, "tut, tut, not at all. Come on, I'll give you a hand up!" He thrust out a large, white hand.
In reply to a casual inquiry, Mrs. Viljohn-Smythe had informed him that the house was a nursing home kept by a Dr. Radcombe, a nerve specialist. "It is quite like spring!" replied Desmond, wondering if this were the doctor. Doctors get about a good deal and Dr. Radcombe might be able to tell him something about Mrs. Malplaquet.
Below each group were neatly printed the names of the persons therein represented. Anxious to see what manner of man was this Doctor Radcombe in whose house spies were apparently at liberty to consort with impunity, Desmond looked for his name. There it was Dr. A. J. Radcombe.
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